Chapter 26

Quills and Questions

Harry moved automatically toward the hall table and removed his wallet and wand without thinking about it. It was a habit now, with the wand handy for when he had to leave the house. He turned back to Cassie, wanting to continue where they had stopped a minute before. Her eyes were not on him, though; they were focused on his wand, which now was laying there on the table next to the folded piece of parchment and his wallet. Harry had a moment's worry. What would she think now that she saw it for the first time? She walked over to the table and stared down at it.

"Harry? It's beautiful. I guess I never thought it would look like this!" She moved to touch it and must have sensed the sudden tension in his body, because she drew her hand back and glanced up at him. "Sorry."

"No, it's all right." He forced himself to relax. She wasn't going to hurt it or anything. "Go ahead and touch it if you want to."

"It looks like a . . . a baton, like a conductor's baton."

"Yeah. I guess it does." Her fingers touched the polished wood carefully and she picked it up from the table.

"It's light, but kind of long and pokey. Doesn't it hurt you when you wear it under your shirt like that?"

"I'm used to it, actually. But I sure don't complain when I get home and get to put it down."

"I still don't . . . oh, never mind. I promised you I wouldn't ask, didn't I?"

"I do vaguely remember that conversation." Cassie lay the wand back down on the table and she walked toward Harry and threw her arms around him tightly, hugging him really hard. "Oof! What's that for?" She looked up into his face, smiling brightly.

"I've never been able to hug you without that thing poking me in the arm or rib cage or something. I want to know what it feels like to hug you without it!"

Harry laughed, the bubbly feeling that had been growing since she had carefully stepped through the door a few minutes ago finally exploding into joy. "Well, don't let me stop you. Hug away!" They stood there for another few seconds until Cassie finally drew back.

"Am I going to get to see any part of your house except for the entry hall?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess you would probably like to see the rest. It's not much, I should warn you."

"I'm sure it's perfectly wonderful, Harry. You live here, remember?" He blushed furiously. She had the knack of saying the most incredible things that made him really embarrassed. They went first into the kitchen and Harry was glad he had not taken the time to eat breakfast that morning as that meant the kitchen was very clean and presentable. Cassie glanced around and smiled approvingly. Harry mentioned the stove and other appliances were old but that they seemed to do well enough.

They then went back out into the entry hall and from there into a small hallway which had two doors. On their right was the bathroom. Harry opened the door and pointed saying, "Here's the bathroom. It's small but that's okay."' Cassie nodded.

"You keep your house nice and clean."

"Thanks. I haven't been here much lately, though."

"Um, I wonder why."

Harry hesitated a moment before opening the bedroom door, wondering if Cassie would notice Sir Lionel's snoring. He opened the door, pointed in and said, "And here's my bedroom." Cassie stood at the doorway and looked in, fortunately not expressing any interest in entering. Harry waited a couple of seconds and then shut the door again and looked at Cassie and said, "Well, there's only one room left. Let's go."

They went back into the entry hall where Harry picked up the box with the VCR. They then continued into the living room. The furniture was old and well used and lumpy. Most of it was uncomfortable. There was a couch and a coffee table. Near the couch was a large easy chair with a sort of ottoman/foot stool that Harry had never tried to put his feet on. There was a small table beside the chair that had a rather dingy looking lamp on it. Across from the couch and chair was the TV on a small stand. At the far end of the room stood a desk on which was the barely-admitted to telephone, and a stack of parchment as well as the envelopes and stamps Harry used to write to Dumbledore every morning.

Cassie surveyed the room, finally noticing the desk and telephone. She looked at Harry and said in a halfway-accusing voice, "And there is the infamous telephone."

Harry blushed and explained, "Honestly, Cassie, I wasn't sure about the number, and I . . . ." Harry stopped. He had promised her that he wouldn't lie to her. He started again. "I haven't used it. I'm not sure it works. I've always called you from the phone box down the street." She smiled.

"It doesn't really matter, I guess." Cassie took the box from Harry and said, "I'll take a look at the directions. Your telly is really old. I just hope we can hook this thing up to it." With that she sat down on the couch and Harry helped her open the box. There were multiple cords and wires and cables in the box along with a very thick instruction booklet. Harry glanced at the back cover and gasped. It really was in a foreign language, just like she had said. Cassie noted his quick intake of breath and turned the manual over. "Oh, Harry. Don't be silly. That's Greek or something. They print these things in about 20 different languages, see? Here's the English." She spent the next few moments reading the directions while Harry sat in the easy chair and watched her, glad that he wasn't the one trying to figure out this very complicated object. Who would have guessed that such a simple-looking machine would take so much effort to set up.

After a couple of minutes, Cassie stood up and took a deep breath. "I guess I should get started." She pulled the stand and television away from the wall and looked the television over, although Harry was not really sure what she was hoping to see. After a few minutes, she went back over and grabbed the VCR along with several of the cables and wires. She knelt down behind the television and started hooking up things. A minute or two later, she moved around to the front of the set and bent over to hook some wires up to the back of the device. After a second or two, she turned back to Harry and blushed furiously. "Don't stare at me, okay? It's embarrassing." Harry started. He hadn't really realized how avidly he was looking at her. Her T-shirt had worked loose sometime in the course of the afternoon and when she bent over like that, he could see the skin of her back, above the waistband of her jeans. It looked soft, and he had just been wondering what would happen if he were to get down next to her and put his hand . . . Oh, man. He definitely shouldn't even . . . . Her request startled him out of that particular fantasy, and he colored slightly, standing up quickly, hoping that he could keep himself from further humiliation.

Harry cleared his throat. "Sorry. I really didn't mean to . . .I . . . . Hey, Cassie? Do you want something to drink?" He felt hot and thought that something cold might go a long way to making him feel better.

She was bent back over her work and he forced himself to stare at the wall above the television rather than at her. "Sure. What have you got?" At least, he thought that is what she said although it came out kind of garbled.

"I've got juice and Coca-Cola."

She turned around at that, pulling her head out from under the television and pushing some hair back from her forehead. "What kind of juice? You don't mean that pumpkin juice stuff, do you?"

"No," Harry said. "You can't get pumpkin juice around here. It's just regular orange juice."

"Oh," Cassie said, "I think orange juice then, please." Harry left her then to go into the kitchen where he poured both himself some juice. After a couple of minutes he returned. By then, Cassie had the television on and was just finishing tightening the last wire. She sat back, brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes again and said, "This was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I guess because the set is so old. I'm tired." She took the juice from him with a grateful smile. "I think I've got it, though."

"Poor thing. You've been working like a house-elf," Harry said, feeling slightly guilty about how much work she had done on his behalf.

Cassie turned to him with a puzzled expression and asked, "What?"

"Oh nothing," Harry mumbled quickly, realizing that he had made another slip of the tongue. "It's just an expression of Ron's -- you know, my friend from school."

Cassie smiled and said, "Ron really does sound like he has an interesting sense of humor. I think you said that is one of the things you like about him." She unwrapped the video they had purchased and said, "Now comes the big test. Did I do it right?" She slipped the video into the VCR and a moment later, the cartoon came on. It was one Harry recognized from the days when Dudley still watched cartoons. Cassie beamed and said, "Well, there you go."

She was still sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Harry sat down next to her. They finished their juice in companionable silence. Harry patted her knee. "Thank you, Cassie. You were definitely right, much as I hate to admit it. I couldn't have done it without you." She smiled broadly. Harry stood up and reached down to help her to her feet. She walked back over to the box and started throwing in the trash, then reached in and pulled out a small bag.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot." said Cassie. "You don't happen to have two extra double A batteries around, do you?"

"What?" asked Harry, confused momentarily by her question.

Cassie explained, "You have a remote to work the VCR. But you need two double A batteries. Maybe you can buy them the next time you go shopping." Harry thought he still must have looked unsure of what she was asking because she laughed. "I'll jot it down for you so you don't forget. Plus, I believe you owe me homemade biscuits and I'm fairly sure you don't have the ingredients around, so I'll make a list of what you need for those, also." Harry watched as she walked to the desk and started to look around it. She did not seem to be able to find what she wanted because after a minute, she said, "I see paper here, but no pencil or pen. Have you got a pen somewhere?"

Uh, oh. This was not going to go over well. "No. Sorry."

"Well, you must have something to write with."

"Actually, well . . . ." That annoying promise he had made to never lie to her popped into his mind again. "I honestly do not have a pen or a pencil."

She looked at him askance. "Yeah? I get the idea there is more behind that sentence."

"Okay. I only have a . . . quill."

"A what?"

"A quill. You know, like an old-fashioned sort of . . ."



"A quill pen? You are kidding me."

"Uh, no. Hang on a second." He opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out his bottle of ink and quill. They normally sat on top of the desk but earlier this morning he had stuffed them in the drawer when he had knocked them off with a bag of laundry. "There." He sheepishly held them up for Cassie to see.

She had a look of shock on her face when she exclaimed, "Wow, you really do go to school in a monastery!"

"I do not go to school in a monastery! They just like sort of, um, traditional things at my school."

"Yeah, I guess so. If I were you, I think I would smuggle in some ball-points. You could make a fortune selling them to other suffering students."

"Oh, they're not so bad." He was still holding out the quill to her, expecting her to take it.

"You don't really think I'm going to be writing with that thing, do you?"

"Uh, . . . ."

"Well, I'm not going to. I would just make a huge mess. You'll have to make the list."

"Okay." Harry grabbed the top piece of parchment, dipped the quill into the ink bottle and wrote, "Two a batteries."

"No, double A batteries."

"Oh, sorry." He crossed off the first line, and wrote carefully underneath, "Two double a batteries." He stopped and looked at her. "Is that going to mean something to someone at the store?"

"Yeah. It's just the size of battery that you need. Someone can help you. Now let's think biscuit ingredients."

"All right." He dipped his quill again into the ink and waited for her to say something. She started listing pretty standard biscuit ingredients and he wrote each word carefully, trying to spell them correctly so he didn't look stupid. When the list was completed, he set it aside to let it dry, and started to put the top back on the bottle of ink.

"Wait. Everything looks so elegant when you write it with that quill thing. Could you, . . ." Harry was surprised when she flushed a little. "Could you write my name with it?"

"Sure." He concentrated hard on his handwriting, forming each letter carefully so it would look nice. A few moments later, the paper saying Cassiopeia Robinson was being examined with wide eyes.

"It's gorgeous. I love it. Do yours now."

"Oh, I write my name all the time with it."

"I know. But I've never seen it."

"Fine then, silly." He grabbed a clean piece of parchment and wrote almost automatically "Harry J." He stopped. He had started using his middle initial during the last year. A small vanity. A small reminder of his dad. He moved to crumple it up and start over again, but she stopped his hand.

"J. For James, I gather."

"Yeah." They both stood there silently for another moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Don't redo it. Finish it." He was grateful she didn't ask anything more.

He put the quill back into the bottle and put the point against the J. He wrote carefully, ames. Then he even more carefully wrote the unfamiliar word, Evans. She didn't seem to notice that these movements were not so automatic.

"Do you mind if I keep this?" He considered this a moment. If the wrong person saw that paper, it could be bad for him.

"Why do you want it?"

"I just . . ." Her face turned a delightful shade of pink. "To remind me of you. When you're gone. You won't be here long, will you, Harry?" He shook his head slowly, unsure of where that had come from. "It didn't really sink in until I saw this place. You don't have one single thing here that belongs to you. You don't live here, at all, do you? You are just staying here for as short a time as possible." She was talking very fast now, obviously more upset about this than he had realized. Her voice was getting louder, and underneath it, he could hear the frustration and unshed tears. He pulled her into his arms again, like he had on the street a few hours ago, and let her cry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I promised myself. . . . I know . . . this is only temporary. I'm only temporary. And that's really okay. I just . . . . I'm going to miss you so much." He continued to hold her for a long time, his head resting against hers, wishing desperately that he could promise that he was never going to leave her, but he knew that would be a very big lie.

"You can keep the paper. Just do me a favor, all right? Don't show it around to people until after I'm gone. Then, it won't matter anymore."

"I can do that." Her voice sounded firmer now; she was getting another grip on herself, and Harry released her from his hold.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Cassie. So much." This time, their kiss was soft, full of words that he, at least, knew he could never say to her. She seemed to acknowledge that with her careful response to his touch, and when they pulled apart, they stood with their foreheads together for a moment, breathing the same air, and Harry thought that it was almost more intimate than the actual touching of mouths.

"Let's just try to enjoy what we do have, okay?" Cassie said, smiling tremulously. "That way, we'll always have good things to remember."

"Yeah. I can do that." She stepped carefully out of the circle of his arms, wiping at her cheeks with a hand that was still a little shaky. She turned her wrist and glanced at her watch. Apparently, it was telling her that it was later than she thought.

"I'd better get home. My mum was counting on my helping with dinner tonight."

"I'll walk you home."

"I'll be fine. I noticed how we came."

"I don't want you walking home by yourself. I'll take you."

"Okay." She picked up the two pieces of parchment from the desk and folded them carefully together, tucking them into her purse so they wouldn't get crumpled. Harry stepped into the hall while she was in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. He picked up the parchment, the wallet, and the wand. He hadn't yet concealed it again under his T-shirt when she walked in the room to join him. "You could put that in your back pocket instead."

"Yeah. I've sometimes carried it like that. It's just that someone could grab it there. Plus it's harder to get to."

"All right." She was quiet now, and Harry wanted to say something to tease her gently, to bring back the laughter in her eyes. But, almost like she could read his mind, she smiled brightly, her natural happiness hard to suppress. "Tell me, do I have to kiss you to get out of the house, also?"

"Hmmm. What if I said yes?"

"I'd know you were lying." She laughed at the crestfallen expression on his face. "Maybe I'll make you kiss me to get into my house, though."

"That would be terrible."



"Wouldn't it though?" They were both smiling at the silliness as he opened the locks quickly and they stepped out onto the steps. She turned as they stepped down. "I thought not. You have no locks on the outside of the door, but about 100 on the inside. How does that work?"

Harry didn't answer, thinking at the moment about getting her down the steps and away from the house so that it could disappear again without her noticing. She didn't press the issue, and was several steps away from the bottom step when Harry heard the soft pop indicating that the house was gone. They turned the corner and Harry took Cassie's hand, sliding his fingers between hers in the way that had become as familiar to him as breathing.

She said then, "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."

"I can't explain, Cassie. I'm not sure I really understand it myself." That was true although maybe not in the way she would think he meant. She didn't push the issue and they walked home, talking very little, but enjoying the time together all the same. He liked that she didn't have to keep up a continuous stream of chatter. Sometimes quiet could be just as nice as talking.

When they arrived back at the Robinson's house, Cassie's mum came out to meet them as they kissed goodbye on the porch. "How about staying for dinner, Harry?" Harry was going to decline, unsure if he wanted to impose on their hospitality again. But the look of welcome in Cassie's eyes convinced him that it wouldn't be an imposition, and he agreed to stay.

"Now, let's see," he said quietly as he followed her into the house. "I believe you said something about my owing you a kiss."